


All dolled up with nowhere to go

by Nimbus_Cloud



Series: Seasons [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, PWP, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7001641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A PWP Bokuaka companion fic to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6711118/chapters/15347086">Seasons of Strife</a>.  Part of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5556743/chapters/12817247">Seasons of Love</a> universe.  Highly recommended that SoL and SoS are read first to give full context, but since it's mostly porn, not strictly necessary.</p><p>--</p><p>Akaashi's recently received some suggestions from Kenma on how to maybe spice up the bedroom with Bokuto, but Akaashi honesty has no idea what he's doing.  Thankfully, Bokuto doesn't really care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All dolled up with nowhere to go

When Akaashi had invited himself over to Bokuto’s with what had sounded like every intent to seduce him, Bokuto had said yes in a heartbeat, then fussed about for the rest of the week, imagining being able to touch Akaashi’s bare skin again, to see him grow wild and flustered beneath him, to hear his soft moans and ragged panting in his ear… every morning had been a bit of a struggle.  Which was why he was more than a little confused when Akaashi showed up Friday evening for their sexy rendezvous wearing… a suit.  The nice navy one he had worn to his Waseda induction ceremony that fit him quite nicely, sure, but… it was still a suit, and Bokuto wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to think about that. 

“Are we… going somewhere?”  Bokuto couldn’t really remember what he had in his closet that would be an appropriate match for the level of formality—he had worn his father’s old kimono and black haori before, but that was at his parents’ house now.  He had dress shirts and slacks lying around somewhere probably but no blazer to speak of…

“No, not at all.”  Akaashi closed the door behind him, dropping his bag and letting himself into Bokuto’s room.  He sat himself on the bed, all stiff limbs and rapid blinks. 

“What are you all dressed up for then?” 

“For you.”

“Eh?” Bokuto knew he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but would it kill Akaashi to throw him a bone every now and again?  “F-for me?”

“Well for… for tonight…” Akaashi was stammering now, which was ruining the image of confidence the suit was supposed to afford him. 

Bokuto’s eyes were narrowed and roaming every which way over the ceiling, clearly stumped as to how Akaashi in a suit was in any way supposed to be ‘for him.’  Bokuto had never cared about appearances, and if they weren’t headed out to a nice restaurant, there wasn’t any utility in the gesture… Maybe he had complimented Akaashi the last time he had worn it and it had sent the wrong message? 

“Ugh…” Akaashi groaned, burying his face in his hands.  “Never mind, I can’t do this.  I’ll change.” 

He reached for his bag, but Bokuto stopped him, face still scrunched up in confusion.

“Well hang on, wait.  Now you have to tell me what this is about.” 

“It’s—it’s nothing.  It’s silly.  I’m…” he sighed.  “Kenma… suggested it.”

“That you wear a suit to see me?”  Surely even Kenma knew him better than that, Bokuto thought.  Unless this was one of his pranks.  Was Kenma the type to prank people? 

“That… that we add some variety.  To our…” Akaashi gestured noncommittally to the bed, waving his hand over it.  “And then he… he mentioned… some of the things that he and Kuroo do and then he—he-suggested-something-about-roleplay-with-costumes-or-without-costumes-and-this-is-the-only-thing-I-own-that-fit-the-criteria-like-I-said-it’s-silly-please-let-me-change-out-of-this-now.” 

The rest of his sentence rushed out in one breath, harried and embarrassed.  Bokuto had thought only auctioneers could talk so quickly.  But as slurred as Akaashi’s words had been, Bokuto still caught the main points of it, enough to make his face break out into a wide grin.  And that, in turn, only made Akaashi flush all the more. 

“Didn’t know that Kenma and Kuroo were into the kinky stuff.” 

Akaashi bit his lip.  He hadn’t even said anything about the bondage. 

“But come on, Akaashi!  Me?  I’m a simple guy with simple tastes!  I just need _you_ , forget the bells and whistles.  What’s the point of dressing up if I’m just gonna tear it off you in five minutes anyway?”

“But…” Akaashi’s hands clenched into fists on his knees.  “Couples… people get bored.  Or… accustomed.”

“Are _you_ bored?” Bokuto sat on the bed next to him, angling his head almost completely sideways so he could get a better look at Akaashi’s face. 

“No!  Not me, but… I wondered if maybe you were…”

But Bokuto’s wide eyes only grew wider, and Akaashi rolled his own, half at his own stupidity for taking the time and trouble with all this, and the other half because all this had been giving Bokuto way too much credit.  If Bokuto were the type to get bored, Akaashi wouldn’t have spent all those extra hours in high school with Bokuto’s supplementary spike practices. 

His expression must have rivaled one of Kenma’s; Bokuto was hooting and slapping his knees as he laughed, and Akaashi wasn’t sure if he should just leave or smack Bokuto upside the head.  Or both. 

“Sorry, sorry!”  The ace wiped away a tear.  “It’s just… I mean, how would you react if I suddenly showed up in a formal suit?  All fancy and with a bow-tie, wouldn’t you get confused too?  Especially if we never mentioned going out somewhere!”

Akaashi tried to imagine Bokuto in a suit _period_ , and the resulting image was… pleasing.  _Very_ pleasing.  Oh goodness.  That was not a good sign. 

“Bokuto, we should get you a suit.”  Akaashi declared suddenly and very seriously.

“Eh?”

“You don’t have one, correct?  You’ll need one for graduation at least.”

“I don’t graduate for another year!”

“I think a white suit would suit you very nicely—“

“Hang on, hang on, time out!” Bokuto formed his hands into a T, the referee signal for a time-out during a game, and pursed his lips.  “How did this turn into—!!  Akaashi… do you… Do you have a suit fetish?!”

“How would I know, I’ve never seen you in one!” He snapped defensively, the red on his cheeks growing all the brighter as the discussion continued.  Why hadn’t he changed out of his ridiculous attire yet? 

“Okay, wait, we’re getting off track again.”  Bokuto shook his head and ruffled his hair with one hand before continuing.  “Look, I don’t know what Kenma told you… especially since we _never_ talked about that stuff?  But I don’t need any of _this_ —“ he gestured to Akaashi’s attire “—to be excited about... ya knowww.  You just have to be here, all you have to do is _look_ at me a certain way, and I’m gone!  All yours.  Doesn’t take much to get me going, and you get me going pretty wild.” 

“Did you ever find Max or Kenma attractive?” The question leapt out of him before he could stop it, and Akaashi bit his lip.  They were supposed to have moved past it; tonight was supposed to be a pleasurable night. 

“Did I?”  Bokuto rubbed at his chin.  “I dunno… I’d have to sit and think about it?  Which means, I wasn’t thinking about it?” 

Akaashi bit his lip.

“Look, I’m not gonna go around saying my friends are ugly and unattractive,” Bokuto pinched Akaashi’s cheek lightly, in an attempt to undo the melancholy.  “I think if I asked you that question, you’d probably say Kenma’s pretty cute, yeah?”

“Ah…”

“But they’re not you.  You’re special.”  Bokuto nuzzled into Akaashi’s side, pulling him close and gripping tight.  “Akaaaaashiiii…” he whined.  “Believe meee!” 

Akaashi pushed him away and Bokuto’s heart began to sank until Akaashi replied,

“I do believe you.  I’ve just been… unsure.  Let me change, and let’s just be as we normally—“

But Bokuto was pushing his shoulders gently down until his back was on the bed, and he hovered over him with a wry smile and flashing golden eyes. 

“Why bother changing?  I can just undress you right here.”

He trailed one hand from Akaashi’s shoulder, down the lapel of the suit, unbuttoning one, two, three… then slid his open palm upward, untucking and wrinkling the neatly pressed dress shirt.  Akaashi swallowed hard as Bokuto grasped the top of the tie he had around his neck, but instead of pulling it undone, he gave it a slight adjustment before tilting his head curiously to the side.

“You said roleplay earlier… did you have anything specific in mind?” 

“Um… n-no.” 

“You’re lying.” Bokuto smirked.  Akaashi had always been terrible at lying.  Well, he was too so it was fine, he supposed.  “Come onnn… tell me.” 

He wanted to know what lewd thoughts could have possibly run through Akaashi’s usually serious thoughts.  A teacher-student scenario?  A politician caught up in a scandalous love affair?  Bokuto had seen enough AVs to know which scenarios usually involved suits of some kind. 

“…I… I thought of a scenario where I could… be a sports agent?”

Bokuto blinked. 

“…a sports agent?”  That was new.

“To recruit you, a… an up-and-coming athlete.  It… I know it’s not very creative but—“

Creative or no, it was good enough to get him Bokuto’s tongue in his mouth, and his hands back to fumbling with his clothes, pushing the jacket roughly off his shoulders. 

“B-Bokuto…” he whined when their lips parted, but moaned and tilted his head back all the same as Bokuto’s tongue moved from his lips to his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin just above his shirt collar, teeth grazing hungrily. 

“That’s hot,” Bokuto whispered into Akaashi’s neck, running his hand up the dress shirt he’d still hadn’t unbuttoned to run his fingers over a nipple, pinching and pulling.  “That’s actually… really…”  Leave it to Akaashi to come up with something that suited Bokuto so perfectly.

Bokuto pulled himself to a sitting position, straddling Akaashi’s hips as he wrenched off his t-shirt.  He stretched and flexed above him, tensing his abdominals and arching his back as best he could—he could probably do better if he took his stretches more seriously. 

“So?  Am I pro-athlete material?”

Akaashi swallowed hard, licking his lips as his mouth went dry.  His hands reached out to trail the lightest of touches from Bokuto’s chest, down his stomach—and yes, those muscles felt more than firm beneath his touch—he pressed into the flesh more insistently the lower he got, nails pressing in by the time he got to the waistband of Bokuto’s shorts. 

“Yes…” he whispered. 

“Can you get me a contract with the national team?”  Bokuto smirked, tensing under the touch.

“What?”  Akaashi snapped back to reality, his eyes drawn from Bokuto’s firmly toned abs to the shimmering gold of his eyes.  “What are you—oh.  Ohhh…”

_Right.  The roleplay._

“Um… I’ll… see what I can do?” Akaashi tried, biting his lip with nervous hesitation.

That did it.

The scenario he hadn’t even realized was building was shattered the moment Bokuto’s laughter rang out through the room, boisterous and loud, his weight bouncing on Akaashi’s hips as the gesture shook him.  Clearly, he was the best actor Bokuto had ever seen. 

“Okay, never mind, never mind!” Bokuto shook his head between guffaws.  “I can’t keep a straight face and you’re terrible at lying.” 

“I didn’t know we were—“

“Akaaaashiii…” Bokuto whined quietly, grinning from ear to ear.  “That’s where you’re supposed to say something like, ‘Let’s see how well you perform for me right now before we discuss contracts.’ Or, ‘Are you willing to do whatever it takes?’  You know… standard AV script stuff like that.” 

“You know I don’t watch those.”  Akaashi was frowning now, attempting to disguise his embarrassment with annoyance. 

“I figured you’d do your research!” Bokuto laughed, his hands now working to steadily unbutton Akaashi’s shirt.  “You’re usually so thorough.”  After all the buttons were neatly undone, Bokuto gently slipped the collar of the shirt beneath the silk tie, leaving it on but removing the shirt.  It created a not-quite-Chippendales look, but bare-chested except for a tie was still _a look_ , and it was one Bokuto was fast learning to appreciate. 

“I feel ridiculous,” Akaashi grumbled, wanting to remove the tie and just be naked and done with it.  He would never _ever_ ask Kenma for bedroom advice ever again.  He wasn’t cut out for things like this—he was like Bokuto: a simple man who was perfectly content with simple pleasures. 

“You look amazing.” Bokuto smiled, and he wasn’t teasing anymore.  “My beautiful Akaashi…”

“B-Bokuto…”

The spiker ground his hips down into him, and Akaashi bit his lip at the delightful friction.  He could feel through all the fabric they were both still wearing that Bokuto was rock hard and eager to please.  Could it really have been so long since the last time they had sex?  When he actually thought about it, it did feel like _ages_ when he counted the weeks, and whose fault had that really been?  He palmed Bokuto’s length through his shorts and felt the moist tip peek out of the waistband.  In any case, it had been much too long since he’d last had that taste in his mouth. 

Akaashi pulled on Bokuto’s shoulders and rolled them over so their positions were reversed, his tie swaying between them and tickling Bokuto’s stomach.  Without another word—no warning, no questions asked, he tugged off Bokuto’s shorts and boxers in one rough pull, his mouth immediately finding its way to Bokuto’s hot, dripping cock. 

“Agh!  Ah… Ak—aashi…” His hands flew to Akaashi’s hair, grabbing fistfuls of those wavy locks and pulling—maybe a little roughly. 

“Hm?” Akaashi hummed around the flesh in his mouth, looking up to see the flush creeping up Bokuto’s features. 

“It… Hah… It’s been a while since—I might… I might come too soon if you do that…”

Akaashi released the length with a pop, smirking. 

“That’s all right.  I have faith in your stamina.”  And then he was pushing his head back down again, running his tongue up and down and savoring the salty taste of Bokuto’s pre-cum on his tongue, feeling his own arousal push insistently against the fabric of his pants as the hard tip of Bokuto’s cock pushed into the back of his throat. 

Vaguely he recalled that he had told Kenma how Bokuto—while not the type to experiment—was definitely a rough lover.  Thankfully, he had failed to mention the part where he absolutely loved it that way.  Tucked away in his mental log of Bokuto’s charms and faults, good points and bad… this definitely qualified as good. 

“Hnngh… K-Keiji…”

The way Bokuto said his name earned him another check in the plus column.  My, his ace was on a roll this evening. 

Breathing carefully through his nose, Akaashi pressed his tongue flat to the bottom of his mouth and steadily pressed Bokuto’s cock further into his mouth, the tip of it pressing firmly into the back of his throat, and still he swallowed it in ever deeper.  Bokuto’s thighs were shuddering beneath him, the pants and gasps above him growing desperate and frantic—not even volleyball got him _this_ worked up.  When Akaashi’s lips pressed into the skin at the base, wet and warm, he felt before he heard Bokuto groan low and loud. 

“Agh…. Ah!  Ahhhnn… Keiji… K-Keiji… Hnngh…”

Erratic and loud.  Two features that typically featured on Bokuto’s list of faults, but Akaashi was rather appreciating them at the moment.  He pulled his head back, relieving his throat of the pressure momentarily before diving back down, addicted to the sensation of Bokuto writhing beneath him. 

“Sh-shit!  I’m gonna…”

 _Go ahead._ Akaashi thought, unable to form the words.  _Let me taste you; fill my mouth.  I want to suck you dry._

A shame Bokuto couldn’t hear him.  But even without the verbal encouragement, Bokuto did just as Akaashi requested, spilling into his mouth and down his throat, the hot sticky fluid coating his tongue and dripping from the corner of his mouth where he failed to swallow it all. 

“Hah… hah… Ahhnn…” Bokuto pulled himself out with some difficulty, his breathing entirely out of his control and his vision hazy. 

Wiping the extra semen from his chin and then licking it off his fingers, Akaashi unbuttoned his slacks with his other hand, only too eager to be fully rid of his suit.  He might have pulled the tie off too if Bokuto didn’t grab it suddenly, pulling him down onto his chest. 

“Ahh… that was… Ngh… so—you’re so good…”  So he wasn’t quite ready for words just yet. 

“Can I take the tie off now?” Akaashi mumbled into Bokuto’s neck.

“No, it’s cute.”

“I don’t think ties are meant to be cute.”

“It’s not the tiiiie… it’s _you_ in the tie.”  Bokuto corrected, his breathing mostly returned to normal—he was an athlete, after all.  A rising star.  Rolling up onto his elbows, he kissed Akaashi’s cheek, then his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips before murmuring, “And it’s a reminder of _how_ you tried to seduce me tonight.”

“I don’t need a reminder of that.”

“Haha!  But I do!”  He moved to straddle Akaashi’s waist, his hands gripping the long silk fabric in his fingers, running it through his hands a few times before he reached for the knot, pulling it looser.  “But if you want, let’s trade.” 

He pulled the knot loose so he could get it up around Akaashi’s head without untying it—he wouldn’t know how to tie it again if it had come undone—and then pulled it down over his own hair and tightened it around his neck. 

“How’s it look on me?”

Akaashi swallowed thickly.  It didn’t rightly make sense when he thought too hard about it.  They had been required to wear blazers and ties back at Fukurodani—seeing Bokuto in a tie was absolutely nothing new.  He couldn’t figure out why it was so exciting now to imagine Bokuto in that sort of apparel when it hadn’t even crossed his mind for all the time they had spent in high school together.  Maybe because they had both been made to wear the same ill-fitting uniform along with hundreds of others?  Maybe because they hadn’t been the best colors for Bokuto?  The grey tie he had just stolen from Akaashi was already better than their former blue-and-white-striped. 

“I look so good you’re speechless, huh?”

Bokuto grinned, and Akaashi grabbed the offensive silk, pulling him down roughly for a kiss.  That was as good an answer as he was willing to give right now.  The rest Bokuto would just have to infer. 

“Man, you’re really riled up today.”  Bokuto whispered, licking his lips before scooting down the bed. 

Gently, he pushed Akaashi’s knees up and to the sides, pressing his tongue eagerly to Akaashi’s entrance and making him gasp and arch deliciously up off the bed.  On the topic of sexual preferences, Bokuto knew that Akaashi loved a rough fucking, but that he also loved a slow and steady lead-up to the action, whether or not he would ever admit it aloud.  Akaashi always tried to rush them through the foreplay, but it was only because he was so easily embarrassed by the lengthy care and attention.  Too bad for him; Bokuto wanted to take his time tonight.  Besides, it had been a while since their last time, and Akaashi would likely need a little more preparation than usual. 

He swirled his tongue around in slow circles until Akaashi’s moans turned into frustrated whimpers, then he bit the soft underside of his thigh—a mark that might have been visible if Akaashi wore shorts with any regularity.  Not to mention he still lived with his parents; Bokuto tried his best to not mark him anywhere too visible. 

“Pass me the lube,” Bokuto murmured into the skin of his thigh, and Akaashi reached his arm out to the bedside table, pulling out the small bottle from the second drawer. 

As he rubbed the slick fluid between his fingers to warm it, Bokuto continued to pepper kisses on the insides of Akaashi’s thighs, occasionally making him yelp with a surprise nibble here and there. 

“B-Bokuto… don’t tease.” 

“Says the one who came to my room tonight with a suit and a roleplay idea in mind.” 

“Th-that’s—ahhhnn… hnngh…”

Maybe it was a little unfair to cut off Akaashi’s reply by pushing in a finger like that, but it was just so cute to hear the words fall out of his mouth as he lost himself in pleasure.  He twisted his index finger a bit and felt Akaashi grow tight around him.

“You’re so tight… it feels almost like our first time.” 

Akaashi groaned, trying not to roll his eyes at the memory.  It had been clumsy, awkward, and uncomfortable, not to mention done in a heated frenzy in their high school volleyball club room after a practice match.  Hardly a romantic first night.  But it was hard to expect much out of two teenage boys.  Now they were two adult men (almost, Akaashi wasn’t quite twenty yet), and it was still clumsy and awkward sometimes, but they were definitely comfortable with each other now.  Akaashi spread his legs a little wider, moaning as Bokuto slowly pushed in a second finger. 

“It’s… it’s not our first time…” Akaashi panted.  “You don’t have to—to be so careful.” 

“Yeah… but I feel like spoiling you today.” Bokuto smiled as he scissored his fingers, pressing firmly inside until Akaashi’s hips bucked so hard he almost pulled Bokuto’s fingers out.  “Even I can be slow and gentle once in a while…”

Akaashi had asked him earlier if he had felt attracted to Max or Kenma… as if either of them could come close to making him feel the way Akaashi did.  Bokuto’s heart raced, skipping beats if Akaashi so much as fluttered his eyelashes a certain way.  His mouth would go dry sometimes when Akaashi smiled, and even just hearing Akaashi’s voice gave him goosebumps.  No one made him as happy or as frustrated.  No one else could go along with his whims but still keep him in line.  Only his Akaashi could do all these things.  His own arousal surged back to life—Akaashi had been right to trust in his stamina. 

“Keiji…” Bokuto whispered, and a third finger found its way inside that inviting warmth.

“B-Bokuto…” Akaashi whined, biting his lip. 

Hmm, not quite.  Bokuto curled his fingers up, reaching and pressing for the sweet spot that would make him—

“Ah!  Ahh!!  K-Kou!” 

There it was.

Akaashi’s cock twitched and leaked, oozing droplets of desire and slicking his abdomen, and Bokuto chided himself mentally for being so neglectful.  He wasn’t anywhere near as skilled at giving oral as Akaashi, but practice makes perfect, and there was no time like the present.  He let his free hand slip from under Akaashi’s knee to grip the base and ran his tongue up the length bottom to top, licking at the weeping slit at the tip and savoring the taste. 

“Ahhh!  Kou-d-don’t…” Akaashi tried in vain to lift himself on his elbows but Bokuto re-applied pressure with the fingers that were still inside him, and he cried and fell back onto the bed, heaving.  “Ngh… I’m…” 

“Come on, I’m not _that_ bad at it…” Bokuto teased, licking his lips a final time before taking Akaashi into his mouth.  “Let me try.”

“Hah… hah!  K-Kou…”

Maybe because it had been weeks since the last time they’d had sex, maybe because Akaashi hadn’t even gotten himself off alone in that same span of time, or maybe because Bokuto so rarely gave him oral—mostly due to Akaashi’s persistent refusal—one or all of these factors made him very _very_ sensitive, and he tugged on Bokuto’s hair frantically.

“Kou, please... I’m… I’m gonna…  Hnngh…”

His protests only made Bokuto work him harder, sucking loudly—technique was nice, but not all that necessary—and thrusting his fingers in and out at a steady pace. 

With one last, desperate heave, Akaashi lifted his shoulders off the bed and grabbed at Bokuto’s (actually his) tie and tugged.

“Hgck!”

“Shit!” It wasn’t every occasion that could make Akaashi swear.  But accidentally choking his boyfriend qualified.  “Oh no, oh I’m sorry!  Are you all right?”

Bokuto rubbed at his neck, pulling the knot looser as he coughed a few times and burst out laughing. 

“Haha… is that how you like it?” 

“Don’t even joke—for heaven’s sake, I’m so—I can’t believe… can you please just take that off now?”

So coming too early was definitely not the most embarrassing thing one could do during sex.  Akaashi stored the information in his mental ledger, covering his face with both hands and knowing he was red all over. 

“I’m fiiiine.” Bokuto whispered, but he took off the tie regardless, kissing at the backs of Akaashi’s hands where they covered his face. 

But the kisses did little to move the hands away, so Bokuto scooched back down the bed, intent on finishing what he started.  After re-slicking his fingers, he pushed two back in, making Akaashi gasp suddenly and moan into his palms. 

“Let me see your face,” Bokuto whispered, twisting his fingers inside. 

“Hnngh… Mmph!” But the hands stayed. 

So a third finger joined in the fun and Bokuto’s mouth found its way to Akaashi’s cock again—still hard, even when embarrassed.  That got him a shudder and a low moan and a hand in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp with dull nails. 

“P-please… Kou…”

Bokuto’s fingers moved faster in and out of him.

“K-Kou… Kou… I… Ah!  I wanna come…”

And Bokuto was keen on making him do just that.  He took Akaashi’s length deeper into his mouth, wondering in the back of his mind how deep-throating technique even worked because he was sure as hell not doing it right.  But the fingers in his hair gripped him insistently and pulled, and he wasn’t averse to giving his mouth a little break. 

“—side me…” Bokuto heard the faintest of whispers.

“Say again?”

“Inside me.” Akaashi repeated, licking his lips and swallowing.  “I wanna come with you inside me.” 

“Oh ho—“ Akaashi’s fingers pressed against his lips.

“Don’t spoil the mood.” 

“Fine, let me just get—“

“It’s fine.” Akaashi pulled him back.  “We don’t need one.”

“You sure?” He tried—and failed—to hide an eager smile.  “Can I come inside?”

“I don’t mind.”  Akaashi began to rise, pushing Bokuto down onto the bed and straddling him.  “Actually, I want you to come inside.” 

Now it was Bokuto’s turn to cover a blush.  He could never understand how Akaashi could be so forward about some things but entirely reticent about most others.  But if that was what Akaashi wanted…  Bokuto had a hard time saying no to the things Akaashi asked for. 

Wordlessly, Akaashi grabbed the lubricant and slicked up Bokuto’s length, positioning himself over it and slowly lowering himself, his mouth falling open with quiet, desperate gasps. 

Bokuto watched himself disappear into Akaashi’s warmth, and bit his lip to stifle a loud groan, his fingers digging into Akaashi’s hips. 

“K-Kou…”

“Keiji…”

Being inside Akaashi was always amazing—being inside him bare?  Bokuto was in ecstasy.  He could barely see straight let alone trust himself to move his hips competently, which was just as well because Akaashi was bent on doing all the work.  Hands bracing on Bokuto’s chest, he rocked his hips up and down, little whimpers and moans escaping his lips with every thrust.  Bokuto’s own breathing was erratic and labored, especially with Akaashi leaning his weight onto his hands on Bokuto’s chest.  But still he gripped Akaashi’s hips tighter, urging him to move faster, take him deeper.

“K-Keiji... Ahn… Ngh!”

Panting wildly, Akaashi ground himself down, burying Bokuto deep inside him with a long moan, then stilled his hips as his hands roamed Bokuto’s chest, pressing his fingers eagerly into the muscles of Bokuto’s chest, his abs… he was all toned, firm muscle and sinew, strong and hard to the touch, in sharp contrast to the softness of his smile and the tenderness of his heart.  What had Kenma called him?  A big idiot with a big heart. 

_With a big dick too._

He swayed his hips in a slow circle, and his hands found the tie they had discarded earlier.  Entwining the silk between his fingers, he looped it around Bokuto’s neck like a sling and pulled, bringing him up for a deep kiss.  _Useful after all._

But asking Bokuto to sit up was apparently synonymous with asking him to take the lead.  One strong arm wrapped around his waist, pushing him closer to the spiker’s chest, and then Bokuto’s hips began moving under his own, pounding up into him.  Akaashi gasped, his voice caught in his throat as he felt the shockwaves of pleasure run through him.  He wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s neck, clawing at his shoulders and whimpering into his ear.  He’d lost the lead, but he was amenable to following.

“Hngh!  Ah… Ah!  Ah, K-Kou!” 

His whimpers turned to mewling when he felt Bokuto’s hand grip his length between their bodies, his calloused thumb running over the weeping slit of it and pumping in time with his thrusts.  Akaashi’s nails scrambled for purchase across his skin—no doubt his teammates would see the marks in the locker room. 

“Ahh!  Hngh!  Ahh… I’m… I’m—“

“Hngh!  Hah… C-come for me, Keiji.”

They came together, Akaashi spilling between them and Bokuto filling him to the brim.  It felt so hot inside him, Akaashi almost couldn’t stand it.  His entire body was shuddering uncontrollably, and his lips craved Bokuto’s.  He brought their mouths together desperately, and Bokuto swallowed his every moan, his every breath. 

“Ngh…” Akaashi grimaced as Bokuto pulled out of him gently, and he felt himself leaking with his lover’s fluids.  It was sticky and messy and so hot it made his spine tingle. 

“So this means you can get me that Olympic contract, right?” Bokuto teased once had caught his breath a little.

“Would you get off that topic?!” Akaashi punched him in the arm, collapsing onto the bed beside him and burying his face into the sheets.  “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” his voice was muffled, but intelligible. 

“Sorry!” Bokuto laughed.  “It was just really really cute!” 

“I’m never listening to Kenma again.”

“I think you should listen to him more often.” 

That earned him another punch, but Bokuto countered with a trail of kisses from Akaashi’s shoulder to his neck. 

“I love you, Keiji.”

The next mumble into the sheets was both muffled and unintelligible, but Bokuto was still fairly certain that it had been something along the lines of, _I love you too._

* * *

 

“So we’ll bring in the waist so it hugs a little closer to your body, especially since we had to size up to accommodate your shoulders and chest, are the sleeves at a good length for you?” 

Bokuto folded his arms at his chest then stretched them out to the sides to test how the sleeves rode up on his wrist—they didn’t much—and nodded his head at the tailor.

“They should be fine.”

“Excellent.  Now we’re also bringing in the slacks for a more slim fit, and we should be ready for your first fitting in… let’s see… two weeks?” 

“It’s no hurry, that’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Let me just get you logged into our appointment book and grab the last information sheet, I’ll be right back.”  The tailor strode confidently away from the dressing room, pleased to have made such a good sale. 

Bokuto let out a long exhale after the man had left, letting his shoulders slump at last—he was not used to holding good posture for long.

“Thanks for coming, Kenma; this is taking a lot longer than I thought.” 

Kenma shrugged, his eyes locked on his game.  

“I’m keeping busy.” 

“Think I picked a good one?”

“Akaashi’s right, a white suit does look good on you.”  Not that Kenma thought his opinion mattered much—the clerk hadn’t given him the friendliest of looks for coming into the boutique with a hoodie and ripped jeans.

Bokuto’s grin split his face from ear to ear and Kenma rolled his eyes mildly.

“This is for scouts, right?” 

“What?”

“Why else do you need an expensive new suit?” Kenma paused his game.

“Y-yeah!  I mean… everyone needs at least one nice suit, right?  You’ll need one too in a year or two, when you start job hunting!”

Well that was defensive.

“So I guess when Akaashi told me that the suit had been an awful idea and that he was never going to listen to me again, what he meant was that the suit should’ve been on you?”

“I—he—when did he?” Bokuto sputtered.

“He didn’t, but your reaction confirmed it.”

“…you’re such a little shit sometimes.” 

“Kuro says that.”  Kenma shrugged, unpausing his game.  “But he gets the worst of it.”

The silence hung between them for a minute or two before Bokuto blurted,

“We’re okay, right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just that… obviously Kuroo and I talked, and I know you and Akaashi talked, and everything’s sort of out in the open, and I know I’ve apologized, and I know you told everyone else you’ve forgiven me, but you and I didn’t really actually talk just the two of us about—“

“Sorry for the wait; oh—did I not mention you could take off the suit?” 

“Uh…” Bokuto fumbled.

“Oh that was my fault.  Why don’t you get changed and then I’ll just meet you up front at the counter?” The tailor excused himself once again and Kenma let out a little giggle once the coast was clear. 

“Kuro told me you had to kiss him.  As a demonstration and that you were super embarrassed about it.  We’re even.”

“You’re pretty sadistic, aren’t you?”  He was clearly fond of embarrassing both Akaashi and himself and immensely fond of teasing. 

“Maybe.”

“…ok, well lemme get changed and we’ll get out of here.”

“Bokuto,” Kenma called just as he had slipped past the curtain. 

“Yeah?”

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me at all.  We really are okay.” 

Bokuto let out a deep sigh and flashed a relieved smile before ducking back into the curtains, and Kenma pulled out his phone to text Kuroo.

> _We’re on our way, see you soon._

Then he pulled up a separate text log to text Akaashi.

> _Next time you see Bokuto, he’ll have a present for you._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, the Bokuaka one-shot to follow SoS!! All I do is sin, I apologize. Mostly. Not really. Honestly, I'm not sorry at all.


End file.
